Chasing Ghosts
by Goddess Of Heather
Summary: Multi case story. Supernautral. ReidMorgan
1. Chapter 1

Title: Chasing Ghosts 1/?

Summary: Reid's sister visits and everything changes

Warnings: Slashy overtones kinda Reid/Morgan

Notes: This is not part of my Las Vegas universe. This is a completely different AU. Thanks to Silentflux who continues to make me a better writer!

Rating: PG

The plane ride had been relatively quiet on the way back. Reid felt as if everyone was just waiting for him to break down -- there was that edge of anticipation in the air. Disembarkment was quiet except for the shuffle of feet and the opening and closing of the compartments. Reid didn't feel ready to face the gazes of the team, rather he shuffled off the plane trailing in their wake.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Reid's head snapped up at the hostile tone of Hotch's voice.

"Laurel?" he whispered in shock. Morgan, who was closest to Reid, apparently heard this and threw a questioning gaze over his shoulder at Reid before swinging it back to the front where Hotch was getting more agitated.

The woman didn't seem at all bothered by Hotch, which just made Hotch more frustrated. She seemed to be looking for someone in the back, craning her head, which was when Morgan got a good look at her. She was tall, but that was a given since she was looking over so many people. She wasn't exactly beautiful, more striking and severe than pretty, and her straight brown hair was pulled back accentuating her prominent facial structure. Morgan glanced back again at Reid and wondered briefly how Reid had been able to see the woman from his position. Reid suddenly started to move, forcing his way forward without apology.

Hotch's voice was tight and tense, "Identify yourself right now!" Morgan, who was following in Reid's wake, got a glimpse of a bent arm and knew that Hotch's hand was resting on his piece.

The woman's eyes met with Reid's and they were embracing -- hugging with excited murmurs. Hotch's hand fell from his gun but the tension ratcheted up a notch. Reid and the woman, who Morgan had already started mentally naming Gianto because she topped six feet, seemed oblivious to the tension surrounding them.

Finally, they pulled back to arms length. Gianto reached up and ran a hand lovingly over the angular planes of Reid's face with a startling familiarity. "Oh, Spencer. It wasn't your fault. That man," her eyes fall over his shoulder to an empty space, "was a bad man." Her voice turns cold and she continues to stare at the carpet, "He deserved to die." Reid glanced over his shoulder at the same place and stiffened, color leaching suddenly from his cheeks. Gianto reached into a pocket and pulled out a fist full of white powder. They turned together and faced that empty space as she stated clearly, "You don't belong here. Go away." She blew the white powder into the air and it seemed to fall in eddies that couldn't be explained by the air conditioning currents. Reid relaxed slightly and some color returned to his cheeks.

"Thanks, " he whispered quietly, but with the stillness of the group everyone heard. Elle clears her throat pointedly and they both jumped, a bit startled, suddenly becoming aware of their surroundings, or at least the team. "Laurel this is the team," he said, pointing in turn with the introduction. "Jason Gideon, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenway, Jennifer Jarue –JJ, and Aaron Hotchner." Without any of his usual nervousness at physical contact, he reaches out and grabs Gianto's hand. "Guys this is my sister Laurel." Reid, seeing their puzzled looks adds, "She's psychic." Which didn't clear anything up at all.

Reid's focus had already shifted back to Laurel so he didn't notice. Instead, the two siblings started to talk excitedly in a blur of words that over-lapped and were unidentifiable to everyone except them.

Slowly, the team seemed to process this bizarre information and recover from the shock. Suddenly, Reid went sheet white and took off at a run for the bathrooms. Gideon, who was just about to turn and follow, paused as Laurel spoke. "Leave him. He just needs some time to pull himself together." Gideon had to admit to himself that if he went in now, Spencer would probably only become more self-conscious. "Spencer has told me so much about you all. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person." Showing the first signs of apprehension, she bit her lip, "What's going to happen now?"

"What do you mean?"

A puzzled look flashed across her face. "He shot someone, what will happen next? Isn't there a protocol? Evaluation? Time off? He just shot somebody through the head."

Gideon frantically searched his memory but couldn't recall any chances that Reid might have had to make a call, and he highly doubted that Reid had told Laurel that in the two minutes that they were talking. "How did you know about that?"

Her voice seemed to drip with sarcasm as she said, "Psychic–he told me."

"Reid?"

"No. Phillip Dowd did." This seemed to shake the team even more. "His spirit is still hanging around. Usually do after a violent death for a few days. You just have to be pushy to get them to back off."

"You're seriously trying to say that you're a psychic?" Morgan couldn't keep the doubt from his voice.

Turning, she faced him an eerie smile on her face when she told him, "You of all people should be open minded -- you were old enough to still remember your Grandmother's hoodun."

Morgan took a step back. "I never told anyone about that." In fact Morgan hadn't thought about his grandmother's religion in over ten years at least. He really only had vague memories of drums and weird insense.

"No, you didn't. But she still looks in on you sometimes. Thinks you need to stop pussy footing around and get married, make some babies." The team's eyes fell on him and he held his hands up in a defensive posture.

"She has me convinced. No one knew that stuff and that sounds just like something that Gamma'd say." Which was true, the woman had been incredibly old fashioned having seven children and hoping for similar numbers from hers. He had no doubt that if she was still alive she'd be hounding him about why he hadn't gotten some woman pregnant.

Turning back to Gideon she said with absolute certainty, "Check your phone. Steven called he got accepted into the graduate program at UCLA."

Gideon frowned but pulled out the phone listening intently to his voice mail. "She's right," he whispered. "He didn't even tell me that he was trying for that." Morgan couldn't believe it. Gideon's poker mask that had stood against some of the most deranged people in history had fallen and showed his shock.

There wasn't a person there that would have claimed to believe in psychics even five minutes ago, but after that evidence, not one of them could claim with certainty that it wasn't true.

Reid appeared looking wan and pale but much calmer. All anyone could think of on the plane was falling into their bed, but in the face of these revelations and Reid's past, everyone was wide awake. They insisted on a late dinner so that they could visit and talk about what had just happened.

88888888888

They ended up at a 24 hour pizza joint. The pizza was fresh and hot if not frighteningly greasy. Everyone watched the siblings conversing quietly before Hotch finally voiced what everyone was thinking. "Psychic? How does that work?"

Laurel pursed her lips remarkably the same way that Spencer did before launching into a lecture and hit the question head on, facts and lecture voice firmly in hand. "The field of parapsychology, or the study of Extra Sensory Perception or ESP, was founded largely by Joseph B. Rhine in the early 1920s. The field is largely divided up into four categories: clairvoyance-the knowledge of the past or future, psychokinesis-the ability to change or affect the solid environment around them, telepathy-the reading of present situations, minds and thoughts, and psychokinetics- the ability to affect the minds and thoughts of others or spirits. Of course there is quite a bit of over-lap in both techniques and abilities, and there are those whose ability doesn't fit into one particular category. In my experience, everyone has had a moment or two in their life where they feel psychic. Their minds or bodies are more receptive and in tune with their surroundings.

"I'm currently doing a genetic study on psychic abilities in families and hopefully locating the genes involved. Women seem much more likely to display strong psychic abilities, and I believe this is because the gene for it is dominate and on the X chromosome. I have what is referred to as a shogun gift-- lots of little gifts and abilities. Pre and post cognition, telepathy in world events and actions of people close to me, some medium talent and psychometry." Spencer wasn't talking, and his stomach seemed to recover since he was making inroads on his second slice. He wasn't really paying attention to what Laurel was saying, he was more interested in the teams reactions to her words.

Elle seemed disbelieving to the point of disgust her aura swirled with puces and chartreuse, but Gideon was more open minded -- he didn't seem any different from his usual intrigued state. Spencer suspected that he'd had some brushes with ESP before. Morgan looked preoccupied like his was thinking about something else, the past maybe from the way his aura was spiking around his head. JJ's aura was a psychedelic swirl of colors and Spencer doubted that she even knew what she was feeling. Hotch's aura was the most troubling. Outwardedly he didn't really seem upset, a little stiff, obviously somewhat negative, but his aura was a different matter. It was a maelstrom of negative emotions. Spencer realized that Hotch was actually afraid. He wasn't sure what Hotch was hiding that he was fearful of, maybe the powers themselves or what they could reveal, but it was the predominating emotion, a sickly ghost gray that seemed to wash him out completely in places.

Everyone's faces were slack with shock. "I'm unusually sensitive right now, and I have existing information on you, which made the reading hot, and easier to do."

"What do you mean you're unusually sensitive?"

"I've found that most women with strong talent also have a corresponding peaks in their ability in relation to their menstrual cycle. Just like their sense of smell increases with pre-menstrual so does their abilities; however, I've been unable to determine scientifically why."

"Oh. So if psychic powers are genetically linked as you claim, does Reid have powers?"

Reid cleared his throat loudly and starred at Morgan in reproach. "I can, in fact, see auras."

Scrutiny of Laurel turned to scrutiny of Reid. "Really?" JJ asked.

"Oh yes. It's not very helpful most of the time, and the closest field it falls into is telepathy. There isn't a way to test for this ability though, which leads to little credence or validity to those that do have it."

Laurel jumped in, sensing his discomfort, "One of the things I actually do in my work is help to defraud those that claim to have psychic powers and extort money from others." This effectively turned the conversation away from Reid, who shot Laurel a grateful smile.

Eventually, the group disbanded, and Reid was informed that he had a three days leave and then a psych eval before going back into the field. Those days served to create distance from the bizarre evening and no one mentioned it to anyone else. Everyone meant to pull Reid aside and ask more questions, but as time grew further from the encounter, it seemed more and more like a weird dream that had no bearing on the present. Cases continued to go by, and eventually months passed with no one talking about it. The subject was officially shelved. Until Reid's past came back again.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Chasing Ghosts 2?

Summary: Reid's sister visits and everything changes

Warnings: Slashy overtones kinda Reid/Morgan

Notes: This is not part of my Las Vegas universe. This is a completely different AU. Thanks to Silentflux who continues to make me a better writer!

Rating: PG

Spoliers: First season, LDSK Fisher King pt 1+2

Morgan sat on the edge of Reid's desk and looked down at him, and Reid tried hard to look busy. He wasn't fooling anyone. "So, your mom, when did you figure out something was wrong?"

Reid looked up and glanced around quickly, as if looking for someone to rescue him. "I, well I knew something was wrong when I was four or so. Whenever she'd start to go on about the government or went through a paranoid streak her aura would spike unnaturally." Morgan blinked a bit in shock. Ever since his sister's visit, Reid hadn't been inclined to talk about the paranormal. Of course, no one had pushed him about it either so perhaps he had taken his cue from them to just forget. Morgan decided that now was the perfect time to find out more.

"So, is that how you can tell that Laurel isn't just schizophrenic?"

Reid blinked a bit in shock at the question and relaxed smiling. "Yeah, it is." Morgan had to wonder briefly about his reaction, but then realized that Reid thought everyone would think the psychic thing was the family schizophrenia and not some ability. The thought startled Morgan a bit because now that he thought about it, it was a reasonable explanation; but it was also something that wouldn't have occurred to him. No, there was no doubt in his mind that Reid's sister was psychic. That made him wonder about what Reid saw when he looked at auras.

"Have you ever seen anything on a case about an unsub?" Reid looked away from Morgan's face, ashamed. "You have?" Reid nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well," Reid tapped his teeth nervously with his finger, "for awhile you guys didn't know about it. But after you knew, no one really wanted to talk about it, so I didn't. And most importantly, it would never have held up in court. You can't just get up on the witness stand and say, 'his aura told me he's a killer.'" Reid smiled and Morgan could see him picturing the defenses rebuttal.

"So what about me? What does my aura tell you?"

Reid blinked and Morgan realized that no one had asked him to demonstrate on one of them before. Hesitantly, Reid reached out and took a hold of Morgan's hand. It was warm and heavy in his own. Reid's fingers traced unseen lines delicately over Morgan's palm. "What, are you gonna read my palm?"

"An aura is more than just something you see. It's like the energy created by one's soul. Just like anything tangible, it's something that can be seen or felt. Sometimes, with really strong auras, I can even smell them. The Chinese art of acupuncture is a way to make chi, the energy of the body, your aura, flow. People can be very dismissive of the herbalist knowledge and spirituality of the East, but a lot of it is very accurate and useful." Reid's fingers continued to ghost over his palm, gentle and feather light. Morgan watched fascinated and a little entranced as Reid's eyes stared intently and started to slip closed.

"Your sister. Emily," Reid breathed the word like a sigh, "she's had a back slide, you're worried about her." A finger delicately traced a line on Morgan's palm that might in some circles be called a life line. "The women, the one night stands. So emotionally unsatisfying. You're just scratching a biological itch. You grow weary of it." Reid inhaled sharply and bent down tugging Morgan's hand even closer, his breath ghosting over his palm, warm and delicate. "High school. Basketball, football, soccer. You played because it was expected of you, but you'd rather be lifting weights or running track. You like the rhythm and the solitude. Brains masked by muscles. You hid who you were, but there -- you could think and feel without censure, think about-" Reid inhaled sharply and pulled away, dropping Morgan's hand like it was on fire. "You're afraid, afraid of me. Of what I just did."

Reid looked away, and Morgan didn't have to be psychic to know that there were tears pooling in those eyes and that Reid wouldn't face him for weeks if they didn't talk about this now. Reid was hurriedly pulling some papers into his satchel with shaking hands. Morgan reached out and grabbed an arm, stilling all of Reid at once.

"Reid, Spencer, look at me." Reid's head tentatively lifted up, his eyes briefly flicking up to meet Morgan's before falling back down. Sighing, knowing that was the best he was going to get Morgan starts to explain, "Yes, I was scared. But I wasn't scared of you." He says the words, but a voice whispers that maybe Reid saw something that he didn't even know was there.

"Anyone would be frightened at having their world expanded so quickly. I believed you about the ability-- hell, Laurel showed us enough to convince us. I -- just guess I didn't realize what an impact that would have. I knew it, I believed you I just didn't _believe_ it. Please, Spencer, look at me." And finally, those nervous eyes glanced up, and Morgan pushed all those times when he'd affectionately watched Reid ramble, his fear when he walked onto that train, forward. He pushed every positive emotion or memory he ever had about Reid forward: training on the mats when Reid had managed a move that they'd been trying for days, the worry that Reid would burn out and that he couldn't help him. He shoved all of that to the surface and hoped that Reid saw: even if he had been afraid for a minute or two, that it didn't erase years of working together.

Reid's shoulders relaxed slightly, and he lost the look of manic energy and flight. He still wouldn't meet Morgan's eyes, but Morgan wasn't as worried that Reid would vanish out of the office and never return, calling in his resignation. The intense moment of emotional upheaval seemed to pass and Morgan let go of Reid's arm, exhausted.

"We have a case."

Morgan looked up into Hotch's stone face and felt a frisson of fear, wondering how long he'd been standing there. Reid seemed to preoccupied to notice and Morgan was thanking God if that really was the case.

88888888888888888

The plane ride was quiet. Everyone was much too preoccupied looking over the case files. These murders were particularly gruesome and no one felt the need to break the atmosphere. Despite his best intentions, Morgan fell asleep and when he woke, they had landed and Hotch was the only one left on the plane. "Where're the others?"

"They've already gotten off. What were you doing with Reid?"

Morgan shrugged, unsure of where Hotch was taking this. "We were just talking."

Hotch stared down intently and Morgan shifted under it, uncomfortable. "I'm not saying whether I believe in the paranormal or not, but if it gets out that Reid even believes in any of that stuff then he'll be ruined and dumped in some basement like Fox Mulder."

Hotch watched as Morgan nodded with the fear of God in him. Good. He wouldn't soon forget this.

88888888888888888

The team was in the morgue staring at the body of the latest victim, or what was left of it. Most pieces could be bagged in individual ziplocs. The only reason they could identify him at all was his DNA on record with the ROTC program.

"It's so violent. A complete disregard for humanity as a whole. I wonder if the unsub even saw him as a person. If he sees anyone as a person." Reid said.

Gideon was leaned over the body as well, though they were the only two. The rest of the team was standing back, happy to observe and not lose their lunch. It's not that they can't normally handle a grisly scene, but watching the two thoughtfully prod what appeared to be a piece of brain matter was enough to make even the most iron of constitutions fail. Gideon straightened suddenly, saying, "Well we've learned all we can here. I suggest we split up into teams of two and take the crime scenes individually. This man is on a spree, and he won't stop until we stop him."

Somehow Reid got paired with Morgan and he couldn't bring himself to look at him yet. He knew that they couldn't avoid each other forever, but a night to sleep on it would be nice. Head bowed, he shuffled down the corridor, staring at the tile when the overwhelming smell of death, decay and feces hit his nose. Choking on the air, he looked up frantically searching for the smell, but no one else in the busy corridor seemed to notice it. Soon it was dissipating and while he could breath easier, the taste of it still lingered in his mouth, sickening him.

"Hey man, you okay?"

Reid, still distracted by the smell, didn't even worry about Morgan or what had happened earlier. "Yeah there's just this rancid–smell. I'm fine." Reid shook off his preoccupation and strode forward, choosing to move to somewhere more pleasant -- like the crime scene of a spree killer.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Chasing Ghosts 3?

Summary: Reid's sister visits and everything changes

Warnings: Reid/Morgan (eventually)

Spoilers: Up to Fisher King pt 2

Notes: This is not part of my Las Vegas universe. This is a completely different AU. Thanks to Silentflux who continues to make me a better writer!

Rating: PG

The crime scene somehow managed to be worse that those pieces of meat in the morgue. Or at least that was the case for Reid. Morgan just climbed right in, walking around the house and studying the spray patterns, but Reid hesitated at the door. That taste of decay had lingered on his tongue, and here the smell was returning. He felt like he could see it rolling out of the house like heat waves. Morgan looked back over his shoulder asking, "Reid, man, seriously, are you okay?"

Reid stared back at Morgan eyes wide, but steeling himself, he lifted his foot and stepped into the house. Nothing. He took a breath and started to gag. 'God that was terrible,' he thought as he leaned against the doorframe to get his bearings. He started to breath through his mouth, and the smell was still there, still terrible, but not overwhelming. When he opened his eyes, Morgan was standing there worried, with his cell phone in his hand. Eyes wide, Reid snatched the phone before Morgan could dial. "No. Don't! I'm fine. It's just, can't you smell that?"

Morgan didn't reach for the phone, but he didn't seem to buy that Reid was fine either. "No. Reid, the house smells like a crime scene. Nothing more."

"NO! No, I've smelled crimes scenes! This is something else. This is like all those crime scenes, decayed bodies, and exposed intestines rolled into one and then magnified." Reid didn't seem to realize that he shuddered as he talked and his eyes were unfocused.

"Reid, I don't smell anything."

Reid looked away, biting his lip before straightening and lifting his head up. "I can handle it." Reid handed Morgan his phone back and walked into the livingroom. Morgan watched Reid's back as he walked away, stiffer than usual.

Reid took longer at the scene than was strictly required. Morgan wasn't sure if it was because Reid was distracted or trying to prove something, but he wasn't about to ask. Reid was wound tighter than a drum and Morgan wasn't about to antagonize him. The ride back to the station was tense, but Reid didn't seem to notice -- he was much too consumed with his own thoughts to notice the atmosphere.

The team was already gathered in the conference room of the police station when they got there. Reid, still preoccupied, didn't display his usual hesitance at interrupting and slid easily into a nearby seat. While he looked distant and unfocused, no one called him on it. But Gideon glanced at him a few times -- first in curiosity, then in agitation. "This spree killer is just going to get more violent and more random."

"Actually, I don't think this was a spree killing in the traditional sense." All eyes swung to Reid who was staring out the glass wall rather than at the team. "Looking at the spray patterns and the spatter, I think that the unsub was purposefully making the crime scene messy. It's like the unsub is showing his hatred for humanity by saying that they're only so much meat and stains."

"Right." Gideon didn't usually doubt Reid, or at least you could never tell if he did, but somehow it was clear that Reid's feelings on the case were about to be dismissed.

Reid, as if sensing his change in fortune, excused himself to the bathroom. He was bent, drinking from the water fountain when he caught a whiff of that same rancid stench that seemed to be plaguing him. More prepared for it this time, he spun and surveyed his surroundings, quickly spotting a person turning the corner. He hurried to catch a glimpse of the person, but was unprepared for his actual appearance. Reid would later be able to describe the man, but confronted with him in person, he was overwhelmed by the man's aura. It was swirling chaotically in horrible colors -- some for which he didn't have names. There were holes gaping in weird places and Reid had to firmly bite his lip to prevent himself from hurling at the smell. Turning away, he rushed back to the conference room.

When he got there, everyone seemed to be disbanding with assignments and Hotch looked like he'd locked on, but Reid wasn't interested in him. "Morgan!" Reid gestured for Morgan to follow him. Morgan, puzzled but trusting, did so.

Reid stopped when they were away from the others. "What's going on Reid?"

Reid licked his lips nervously, his eyes surveying, making sure that no one could see them before he said, "I saw the killer."

Morgan's eyes widened in shock. "What? How?"

"He works here as a janitor in the building. I-" Reid's voice dropped impossibly low and Morgan had to strain to hear him. "His aura was terrible." Reid shuddered, his slim shoulders shaking with horror. "I've never seen anything like it, not in all the serial killers we've seen. It's like his soul went bad, or rotted inside him or something. That scent from the crime scene was his. Morgan you have no idea how disturbed this man is. I have to tell the team."

Morgan grabbed Reid's arm as he walked by. "No Reid! Wait. You have to be careful about this. Hotch warned me about this stuff. Let's see if we can't seem to find some physical evidence. We'll tell them that you're following a hunch."

88888888888888888

Talking to the lab director netted them the ability to search the janitors' lockers -- random searches were permitted of the lockers but the cars on the lot would have to have a search warrant. The lockers weren't labeled but Reid went straight to one near the end. Morgan watched with the lab director Berkely as Reid carefully examined each object in the locker. "That's Nat Fairaday's locker. Why that one?"

Reid looked up from where he was examining a pair of tennis shoes intently. "Is Nat a tall man? Six one? Long brown hair pulled back in a pony tail?"

Berkely nodded dumbly, answering, "Yeah, that's him."

Reid wasn't watching, his attention was already turned back to the contents of the locker. Reid pulled some lumionol out -- from where Morgan didn't see, but he guessed that Reid borrowed it from one of the techs. Profilers usually weren't on the front line of the evidence chains. Carefully swabbing the sole, Reid spritzed the swab and they all watched as it turned pink. Reid turned back to Berkely, "Is this enough to get us a warrant?"

888888888888

Reid and Morgan ran with their warrant rather than pull the team in. Just in case. Morgan said it was in case Reid's hunch was wrong, but the truth of it was much more complex than that. Morgan didn't think that Reid noticed, being too preoccupied. CSU was going over Fairaday's car with a fine tooth comb and if there was any trace of the murder victim then they would find it. Reid and Morgan were more interested in finding a way into Fairaday's head. Although Reid had some doubts about what he would find. "What is that smell?"

Reid¢s head jerked up. "You smell it too?"

"Yeah, this minty Viks-vapor rub kinda scent."

"Oh. That's me. I put some under my nose to help combat the other smell. Coroners and other morgue workers use it to help with particularly bad decomp."

Unfortunately, the house didn't have anything out of the ordinary. Morgan was getting frustrated that there wasn't anything that stood out. If they didn't find something more than a little blood on a shoe, then they were going to have to tell the team why they thought Fairaday was the unsub. Reid came up behind Morgan who was fixin' to break the bad news that the house was clean.

"Wait." Reid reached out and blocked the closet door from closing. "What's that?" Reid pushed forward to the back of the closet and suddenly, the wall was swinging forward. One glance and they both had their flashlights out, moving as one forward.

Flashes of red and violence assaulted them with quick glances at slashed pictures and burnt edges. Reid found a light switch, flipped it, and Morgan about lost his lunch. The room was like nothing he'd ever seen -- body parts were hanging, pictures of the scenes. "It's like we walked into his Narnia."

Morgan look sideways at Reid. "Man, that is sick that you would even think of that."

"What?" Reid exclaimed defensively, as if associating a children's book with a spree killer's fantasy room was perfectly normal.


	4. Chapter 4

Morgan and Hotch were sitting in the interrogation room with Fairaday. They had plenty of evidence, but closer for a case like this it is important to verify all the victims and get a confession. But as Gideon stood behind the one-way mirror and looked at the scene, he found himself much more interested in finding out how exactly Fairaday had ended up there. Reid stood next to him, and Gideon found himself studying Reid's reflection more than Fairaday's image. "From what Morgan tells me, you should be in there instead of Hotch. He says that it was you who figured everything out."

"It's bad enough just looking at him." Reid's slim shoulders shuddered briefly. There was a sudden shift in mood, and Gideon was meeting Reid's reflection. "When did it happen?"

Most people wouldn't know what Reid was asking, but Gideon knew. It's why it was still so challenging to play chess with him. "I was 34. Old enough to have been around, think that I'd seen everything, and too young to realize that there's always something else…."

_  
He could still feel the dew on his feet. Cool with out making him cold, the stars sparkled in the night sky and the moon was so full that he could almost see green of the grass. Wandering in the playground, he had followed the strained notes of a little girl jumping rope. "3, 4 shut the door  
5,6 pick up sticks  
7,8 I have a date  
9, 10 I die again"_

Suddenly the rhythmic jumping ceased and the girl was facing him, pink ribbon in one pig tail and a bloody hole to match on the other. "I'm dead but no one knows it. Find me."

Suddenly, he was jerking awake sweaty and stiff with an irrepressible urge to go hiking. He called up Hernandez and headed out. They hiked for two hours. He couldn't have told you which direction they were going or how far they had gone, but somehow he knew the spot. Panting, he fell to his hands and knees and started to dig. The earth seemed to part under his fingers like it was as desperate to give up it's burden as he was to find it. Brushing the dirt gently away he finally revealed what they were looking for—a little girl with a pink ribbon in her hair.

  
"I told myself that it was my subconscious, piecing together various files that I had seen, people that I talked to. But I could never get over that pink ribbon or the matching head wound, and how I had seen that in my dream so so clearly."

Reid voiced no doubt or surprise at Gideon's story. "You have to be careful when dealing with the dead. Their priorities are very different and time doesn't exist for them like it does for us."

"So, you think it was the little girl contacting me?"

Reid smiled at that. "Gideon, you are a very perceptive person, better at reading people than anyone I've ever met, but you are not psychic. At least, no more so than most people. You just trust your instincts more than most and are receptive enough for some of the more powerful entities to reach you. But no, that wasn't you finding that little girl. It was Marie finding you."

Gideon's eyes finally moved from the glass, wide and startled, "I never told you her name."

"No. You didn't." Nothing else needed to be said. Focus shifted over to the interrogation room.

"Why Fairaday? Why treat these people like meat?"

Suddenly the room exploded. "BECAUSE THAT'S ALL THEY ARE! MEAT AND BLOOD AND GORE. MESSES!!! THAT'S ALL THEY'RE GOOD FOR IS MESSES!!" The ranting degenerated from there.

Reid turned to Gideon, "Do you think we could request his work detail be in the kitchen cleaning?"

77777777777777777777777

Congratulations were handed all around, but everyone seemed to realize that the real thanks especially went to Reid who had blown the case wide open. Reid basked for a moment before shying away awkwardly and hanging on the fringes. Most people wanted 15 minutes of fame, but Reid -- used to being singled out and not for his betterment -- was happy with fifteen seconds of thanks and then the anonymity of the fringe. Morgan seemed content to lean next to him in silence, so Reid continued to chew over Gideon's story and wonder if there were anymore that he might manage to weasel out sometime soon. Morgan didn't say anything, even when they were packed up and heading to the plane, but Reid felt like he was going to. Reid supposed that Morgan was just waiting for the right time.

The flight back was long, and Reid was looking forward to falling asleep, the certainty that there was one more bad guy in jail and the world was just a little safer was enough to give peace of mind, at least for a night or two. Just as he was getting settled in to curl up in a seat, Morgan flopped down next to him.

"Hey, Spencer, can we talk?"

Reid straightened up and suppressed a yawn. "Yeah, what's on your mind?"

"It's, well, it's what you did with this case. I mean-it was pretty amazing, you figuring that stuff out, it's just that well... Hotch, he doesn't think it's a good idea for people to know that you do that stuff. I can kinda understand, it's not something that normal people tend to believe in."

"No," Reid laughed, "I suppose not. But then what is normal? For me, my sister calling when I'm thinking about her is normal. Knowing when JJ is feeling guilty for cheating on her diet is normal, and for me, always knowing too much of one thing and not enough of another is perfectly normal."

"Hey, now. That's not what I'm saying at all. I think what you did was important. You have a gift. A gift." Morgan emphasized. "It can help a lot of people, just, you know be careful when you're using it. You really freaked out the lab director."

"He was a little 'freaked'." Morgan could actually hear the quotes around the word.

They sat in silence for a minute when Morgan finally broke in and asked, "When you were reading my palm or whatever, what else where you going to say before you stopped. I mean, did you see, there was this thing in high school and I was just wondering if you –ya know saw it or something, because it's probably not what you're thinking it was..." Morgan felt a warm weight land on his shoulder and looked over to watch as Reid more than half asleep curled up across the seat and snuggled in, his head slid down to become firmly planted in Morgan's lap. He considered waking Reid up and moving him, but well the teasing material alone was worth it—even if he was going to have to put up with some of it himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Chasing Ghosts 5/?  
Summary: Reid's sister visits and everything changes  
Warnings: Reid/Morgan (eventually)  
Spoilers: Up to Fisher King pt 2  
Notes: This is not part of my Las Vegas universe. This is a completely different AU. Thanks to Silentflux who continues to make me a better writer!  
Rating: PG

Morgan meant to ask Reid for a drink after work the next, to talk, but the ink was hardly dry on the paper work before they were whisked off on another case. Two weeks passed and even though things had calmed after three cases back to back, the moment was lost and Morgan wasn't sure when the next one would happen. Preoccupied thinking about this, it took a while to notice that Reid kept staring at his phone. Morgan wasn't sure what he was doing since no one every called Reid on his desk phone. JJ apparently had noticed Reid's odd behavior as well because she leaned next to Morgan at his desk and commented, "so do you know what's up with Spence?"

"Nah, it's like he's expecting a call, but 'no one ever calls him on his office phone,'" they finished together.

Just then for no apparent reason Reid picked up the phone and happily exclaimed, "Laurel!"

"Did Reid really just pick up the phone before it rang and know who it was?"

"Well," Morgan grinned wickedly, "he is psychic."

JJ whapped Morgan across the arm but neither turned from watching Reid, who was whispering excitedly into the phone. His demeanor suddenly changed from one of play to one of work. He was straighter and his face smoothed into serious lines, Morgan found himself wishing that there were more laugh lines to fade. The serious air about Reid spread and JJ and Morgan's previous good mood was quickly evaporating in the face of Reid's controlled distress.

They both watched on the edge of their seat as Reid quietly replaced the receiver of the phone and stared thoughtfully at it for a minute. Morgan finally gave into his curiosity and approached Reid, "Hey," Reid jumped and spun eyes impossibly wide and startled. "Whoa there!" Morgan could almost see Reid's heartbeat slowing, "who was on the phone?"

"Laurel." Reid's voice indicated that his actual thoughts were a million miles away, "She thinks there's a serial killer in Durham." Morgan opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn't' sure what. By the time his thoughts were collected Reid was up and moving towards Gideon's office. Garcia and Hotch noticed the intense staring of JJ and Morgan and gather around as well. When Hotch asked what was going on Morgan he just mumbled something about a possible case. They waited for over 7 minutes and Hotch had had just about enough, and was about to just go into Gideon's office when the door that they were all intensely staring at swung open.

Gideon walked out with Reid on his heels, "we have a case. Debrief on the plane."

Rather than protest everyone dispersed to gather their things.

Things were settled and everyone waited expectantly, eyes on Gideon, who turned to Reid, "Spencer, if you would?"

Reid, the one person that wasn't watching Gideon jerked up, shocked. Eye's wide he took a moment to compose himself before launching into a stammering speech, "The, umm we're heading to Durham, North Carolina. Specifically the Rhine Institute, where –umm- Laurel, my sister, she –uh- thinks that there's a serial killer in the area. That's –um- psychic." Reid nervously cleared his throat and looked away, afraid of seeing their reactions.

When he did finally look up there was a wide rang of reactions. Hotch was the worst, his aura swirling violently, Reid quickly glanced away unable to stomach the look, he could still see the edges of it rolling tumulusly out of the corner of his eyes. JJ's was bright, spinning hesitantly in colors of confusion and doubt. Morgan and Gideon's theirs were rock solid, azure blues of confidence, emerald greens of faith and there was a weird tinge of color in Morgan's that Reid was reluctant to label.

Having passed the hard part Reid was unexpectedly calm now. "Laurel said that she's been suspicious about several deaths in the area recently, but this last one was on campus giving her the ability to request intervention. The local police have been ruling the deaths as accidents, she believes that they've been killed by a teek—telekinetic. If it's true it would be hard to detect. A true teek could easily stop a person's heart, or cause a stroke. The evidence of this being not natural disappears just like he does. Only someone sensitive could pick up on what he'd done, and only within about three days. After that the soul is sure to have moved on and any energy that's been disturbed is gone. Laurel isn't actually expecting the whole team. She called me because my skill of aura reading is steady, not staggered like most gifts and is uniquely adapted to seeing if someone has been messed with psychically. She will brief us on the suspected victims when we get there.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Chasing Ghosts 1/?

Summary: Reid's sister visits and everything changes

Warnings: Slashy overtones kinda Reid/Morgan

Notes: This is not part of my Las Vegas universe. This is a completely different AU. Thanks to Silentflux who continues to make me a better writer!

Rating: PG

Chasing Ghosts 6/?

The short one and half hour flight was tense. The plane was clearly divided in half. Morgan, Jason and Reid bunched together, secure in their belief, while Hotch sat at the opposite end, as far away as possible, with JJ in the middle like a neutral buffer. Reid missed the glancing eye conversations that Morgan and Jason had, mind turning over various unpleasant possibilities for the immediate future. He barely glanced up as Gideon got up and walked over to Hotch for a short conversation. However, he did notice when Morgan sat down next to him, so close he could feel the heat from Morgan's thigh.

"Reid, man, I just wanted to let you know that whatever happens, I believe you, and more importantly, I believe in you."

Reid looked up and blinked rapidly, cursing the dampness in his eyes, thinking himself weak. Morgan's hand came into view and rested on top of Reid's hand. "Read my aura now."

Reid lifted his head and gently cupped Morgan's hand, his eyes drift slowly closed as he murmurs nonsense under his breath—disjointed words and syllables until he freezes and his eyes flying open with shock meet Morgan's gaze. "Do you really feel—I mean—" Morgan's eyes hold no fear only sincerity, but before they can continue, Gideon sits down heavily across from them and orders them to buckle up. Most of Reid wants to throttle Gideon for interrupting, but a small part was sincerely thankful. Time to think and meditate was always good, especially with something like this. But now the plane was landing and it took every bit of will power that Reid has, but he clears his mind and starts to focus on the case.

0o0

It was rather bleak outside the plane, wind gusted and clouds rolled over head. Trooping in a despondent little line, they headed toward the tarmac and the waiting figure.

Rather than shouting over the wind, Laurel led the team into the tarmac. "You don't seem very surprised to see us," Hotch commented.

Gideon and Morgan shot him disbelieving looks "Spencer didn't say that he was bringing his team," Hotch's scowl deepened, "but I had a feeling." Her lips curled in a queer little smile, and Hotch looked away first.

"Quickly. We need to view the latest body as soon as possible." They rushed through the security flashing their badges walked up to two Toyota Echos. "Sorry they're not two of your standard government issue gas-guzzlers, but we are a green facility."

"This is Harold. He works at the center." Reid's eyes tracked Hotch and he quickly climbed into the car that he chose. JJ followed suit and Harold climbed into the driver's side. That left Morgan, Gideon and Laurel in the other car.

"You don't want to catch up with Spencer?"

Laurel smiled a bit and Gideon felt a sudden sweeping feeling of uncertainty. He hadn't felt this far out of his depth in a long time. "I would dearly love it if Spencer and I had some time together, but he's quite busy running interference with that man, Agent Hotchner. Now is unfortunately not the time or the place."

"You seem very close."

"It wasn't always that way. Spencer and I will never be mistaken as anything but related physically, but spiritually we're not very similar at all. I was always strong and willful, unbending. By the time Spencer was born, I was leaving. We're fifteen years apart and I didn't see him again until he was twelve."

"Seriously?" Morgan was aghast at the idea of not visiting one's family.

"Strong and unbending doesn't mean without problems. I had a lot of things to work out before I went home. When I got there, I hadn't realized what had happened in my absence. I first thought that Spencer was very fragile, weak to bend in every direction that my mother blew, but later I came to see that as a kind of strength, bending without breaking. When I realized how sick our mother really was, I had her institutionalized. And Spencer came to live with me. We became much closer during that time, and I think that I was perhaps the first person to see him as he really was. That bending that seemed so weak hid an inner strength where he managed to go his own way.

"I thought he should come with me to the institute and test the limits of his abilities but he quietly managed to do exactly what he wanted, and what I disapproved of the most— he joined the FBI.

Gideon felt like he should protest or offer some proof that they deserved Reid and would do right by him, but was starting to realize that there was a lot more they could be doing and weren't. Shamed, Gideon turned to the window and the rest of the trip was spent in silence.

They arrived a bit later than the first car, and apparently they were already heading to the morgue. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted Spencer to see the body as soon as possible. The closer he is to the time of death, the higher the chance of him picking something up."

Hotch didn't seem to have relaxed any since Gideon had seen him, but Reid didn't seem to even notice as he leaned in close, inspecting the body.

"When did he die? About twelve hours ago?"

The coronerlooked a bit startled while answering, "Yes, right around midnight . Apparently it was a –"

"Heart attack."

"Yes!" The coroner (corner) looked slightly freaked out, but Reid was oblivious.

"I can see how you would think that." Reid turned his attention to the team and Laurel.

"Here," Reid pointed at the heart area, "this is where the disruption occurred. The unsub placed a block here and it caused it to look like a heart attack."

The corner looked up, "I didn't find any signs of foul play!" He sounded deeply offended.

Reid looked over startled having forgotten about the man, countering, "But you didn't find anything that indicated that his heart should have stopped working, like scar tissue or plaque build up?"

The coroner squirmed under the scrutiny, "no."

Reid glanced at the coroner. "The body has been completely processed and washed, correct?"

The coroner nodded, and Reid closed his eyes and pressed his hand over the victim's heart. "Hey, what is he doing? He's not wearing gloves-" Morgan reached out to restrain the man.

"Watch. He's working." Morgan felt worry stir in him, Reid's face didn't hold the peaceful concentration of when he had read Morgan's aura, and as the color continued to leach from him, Morgan wasn't sure if there was any blood left in Reid's head at all. Gasping, Reid wrenched his hand away and swayed violently, his white knuckle grip on the autopsy table the only thing keeping him up right. Morgan rushed over and half carried Reid to the office desk chair where he slumped over looked half dead himself. When he spoke his voice came out rasping and strained. "Definitely a serial killer. Older, forties, doesn't suffer fools gladly," he murmured. "He won't stop killing, not until he's caught, and he'll never be caught." Reid's head lifted up briefly and Morgan gasped in shock at Reid's eyes, completely white, and clouded over, until he slumped forward, and then Morgan realized that Reid was passing out and not channeling some spirit. Catching him deftly, Morgan leaned him back in the chair and balanced him carefully.

"Well? Now what?"


End file.
